Sonata in C
by alta-tsuki
Summary: Tifa has a little too much time to think about her life. Kinda sad, or at least it was meant to be. Review please? .


**Quick author's note: No i dont own anyone, nor do i own the game. So no suing or anything of the sort. Thank you, come again!**

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The plastic closed sign hanging behind the door swung hopelessly from side to side, staring soundly at the forlorn drunkards waiting for it to turn around. To show its more inviting side, the one that read 'open' in big red letters which welcomed even the lowliest of sinners. A small furry creature sat below it, crouched low, eyes dilated so much that the irises were nearly invisible. Those feline eyes trailed the movements of the suspended object, tracking its every swing, waiting for the perfect opportunity to catch it off guard and hopefully bring it down to the cold hard ground. Finally that time arrived, and the cat pounced on her unsuspecting victim, claws trying desperately to hang on but managing only to leave a few scratches that marred the surface of an S. Landing gracefully, she immediately went back to her original position, tail switching in time with the disturbed rhythm of the sign still stubbornly clinging to its hook. 

Glasses clinked softly while being put into a cupboard, clean and dry for now only to be used again later for alcohol of all sorts. A young woman stood behind the counter watching her cat amusedly while washing the seemingly endless amount of dishes piled in the sink. The phone rang from upstairs, the shrill cry resounding throughout the house, shattering the deafening silence. The cat jumped again flailing its limbs franticly, the sign resolutely staying where it hung. Someone answered the call, his deep voice speaking to a person neither he nor the woman downstairs knew and probably never would. A sigh made its way out of the red eyed woman and hung lifelessly in the air. He was leaving again, and would not be back until later, this she knew. He never came back with time for anything, not when someone had called. They never talked anymore, she realized. Life was back to the way it was right after they had moved here. To Edge. To where everything was quiet, so unlike its predecessor, Midgar. He would always wake up too late to talk, because someone would call, someone always called. He'd leave, the day would pass, business would start, and he would come home and sleep before she had to close the bar again. Then she would clean up, and go to sleep. It was always the same. Every once in a while one of the orphans would have some amazing discovery or want to go on a walk. Such things were rare though and would be talked about for weeks between the lot of them until another event took place.

His boots clunked noisily against wood as he made his way down the stairs. His blond hair looked ruffled, as though he hadn't bothered to try and fix it. Fumbling with his keys he explained what he did everyday, the same words, the same outcome. He was leaving again.

"Someone called, I'll be back later I guess. Maybe for dinner this time." His soft tenor called to her. This was where her lines were. The 'ok, I'll see you later then' that she said everyday. But for some reason, the words wouldn't form, couldn't make their way out of her throat, tight with bitterness. He stopped at the door, waiting for her to speak her part of the script; he hadn't even looked at her yet. She wondered idly if he would even have noticed that she wasn't there until no one spoke. Or even if he would have been able to tell the difference if someone else said the same thing. He turned around, puzzled at the silence coming from the other side of the room. "Tifa?"

She smiled harshly at him, "Aren't you going to be late?" was the phrase that came out. He flinched; she could see the pain in his eyes as he turned back to the door.

"Ok… I'll see you later then." She stared at his retreating form in fury. He had said her lines for her! Slamming the plate she was holding down on the counter she stormed upstairs and sat heavily on the couch in the room dubbed, 'the living room'. No one ever came in here. The kids were always in their rooms doing this or that, she always seemed too busy to just live, and Cloud, he was never around anyways. She glared at the empty fireplace willing it to ignite with her gaze. She felt almost childish. What had she even gotten upset about? About the two of them not having any time to talk? That wasn't his fault. Nor was it hers. If anything now they would talk even less, if possible, because of her actions. A sudden fear gripped her. What if he didn't come back? It was a horribly real possibility. He had done it before when he had started living at Aeris' Church. Resting her head in her hands she mentally berated herself. Why had she said that? Now he would never come back. No that wasn't right, she assured herself. He had to come back. He had promised the children that he wouldn't leave again. Even if not for her, he would still come back. He didn't break promises, especially to people he cared about. People like her. No, that wasn't true. She was just a friend; he cared for her yes, but not quite in the way that meant. Maybe people he loved was the better term, and she didn't quite fit into that category. She was depressing herself now. Thoughts like these plagued her often but had to be pushed to the back of her mind in favor of more optimistic topics. Desperately looking around for something to distract her, her gaze fell upon the small piano pressed up against the wall of the room. She smiled softly remembering all the good times as a child she had playing songs by famous people no one in town had ever heard of.

Making her way over to the instrument she set her hands delicately on the soft, off white keys. It had been years since she had played anything. Maybe a scale here or there, a few arpeggios, but never a real song. Suddenly inspired, the woman racked her memory for a tune, any tune, so long as she had one to play. One came to her, and she immediately knew which one it was. One of her first adult pieces. The first note, what was it? Oh right, middle C, she remembered. It was a C in both hands, but different fingers. The left hand had an easy pattern that came back quickly. 5, 1, 3, 1, 5, 1, 3, 1. C, G, E, G. The tune was simple to remember. The first part was easily recollected, but once the scales started, she didn't know what to do with her left hand. Humming the song to herself to try and jolt her memory, she slowly pieced it back together. A sharp here, a rest there, wait, it skipped a note in this scale, slowly but surely it all came together into the sonata she remembered. But she was playing it so painfully slow! Why wouldn't her fingers move any faster? They felt stiff and numb, too cold to fly as they used to. She flexed them, blew on them, rubbed them together for friction, anything to warm them up. She wanted so badly to play as she used to. To live as she used to. She missed the old times with her friends, her father, her mother. They were all gone now, all of them. Did she even have friends anymore? Did any of them actually care? Or was she just a pity case for them, someone that came along on the mission because she asked to and they couldn't exactly say no. She wasn't the best fighter. She knew that. What help did she ever give the team? Even Cait Sith did more than she did and he was just a stuffed animal. A stuffed animal with a voice.

Laying her head on the bright wood of the piano she tried to regain control over her frazzled thoughts. Everything looked so bleak from where she was, Cloud wasn't coming home, she had no friends, and to top it all off she couldn't even play the piano. Her eyes began to burn, the pressure building up behind her eyes begged to be released. Why hadn't Sephiroth killed her? Why Aeris? The one everyone actually loved. She, she was nobody. If she had been the one to die instead of Aeris, their saint, their heroine, maybe Cloud would be happy now. If anything, he'd have someone who didn't spout nasty remarks at him in the morning. A single tear escaped through a crack in the dam she had so meticulously built. After Nibelheim she had promised herself she would never cry again. There were times when she had wanted to so badly, but had pressed on with life. She had no need for tears, they did nothing but hurt and you always felt exhausted afterwards. Once one had slipped through a few more followed. Her breath became ragged and she fought with her lungs to breathe correctly. Deep breaths, in, and out, it's ok. But it was too late. The dam had broken and the river was too strong for her to try and rebuild anything, she'd be lost forever in its raging current. Before she knew it she was sobbing into the piano, her arms and forehead pressed harshly into the keys playing them all at once filling the room with discord. A door slammed downstairs, the sound of heavy boots on the stairs going unnoticed by her. She was too wrapped up in her sorrow. Besides, it couldn't be him, he wasn't coming home.

"Tifa? Tifa what's going on? What's wrong?" She didn't look up. His voice sounded worried, but he was probably just pitying her again. Thinking that she was some maudlin vying for attention. She never answered his questions, she only cried harder. He tried placing his hand on her shoulder to let her know he was there to help but she abruptly stood up, forcibly wiping the tears off her face. "Tifa, why-"

"Sorry," She interrupted him, "What- what time is it?" Her voice was trembling uncontrollably as she struggled to stop crying. He moved towards her trying to get a hand on her to comfort her but she kept backing away from him. Was she afraid of him? What had he done?

"That doesn't matter. What's wro-"

"What time is it?" She persisted, almost pleading with him. Sighing exasperatedly he reached for his watch to check.

"It's nearly eight now tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, I have to go open the bar soon…" She turned away from him and started downstairs. Before she got anywhere though Cloud grabbed her arm and pulled her close, dragging the two of them to the couch to sit down.

"Don't give me that. Now what's the matter? Why are you crying?" He tried to ask as softly and kindly as possible. This wasn't exactly the easiest of tasks for him, due to his reclusive nature, but he decided that if any time was a good one to show emotion, it would be now. Thinking of what she was crying about in the first place and what he must think of her only made everything worse. Burying her head in his chest the tears began to flow again as she sobbed into him. He didn't say anything this time, just petted her hair and waited for her to calm down.

Eventually the weeping was once again reduced to mere sniffles and the blond haired man tried again. Gently guiding her face up to look at his, he stared meaningfully at her. Understanding the message the heavy hearted woman turned away, trying not to see those questioning blue eyes.

"I…" She was trying to express herself, but her problems seemed so petty now. He would think that she was so stupid for such nonsensical thoughts. So she tried a different tactic. "I'm sorry for this morning. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, you know?" She joked half-heartedly. The mercenary just smiled wanly at her, indicating that he knew she was sidestepping the real problem. "I-…I thought you weren't coming home…again." She whispered. He sighed. Taking that for exasperation, Tifa stood up again and headed towards the door.

"Wait…" That one word was enough to stop her dead in her tracks. His voice had sounded so forlorn, so broken. Had she hurt him again? That seemed to be all she could do lately. She heard him get up from his seated position and walk swiftly over to her. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he tried valiantly to figure out how to make things right. Wine met water while the two adults stared into each other's eyes. "We, need to talk. Don't we." It wasn't a question, it was a demand. Breaking eye contact Tifa nodded to the floor.

"I have to open the bar now…"

"I know, but look, tomorrow, we'll both take the day off." She looked at him confusedly. "I won't take any calls, and you won't clean any dishes. We'll spend the whole day by ourselves, getting to know each other again."

"But the kids-"

"I'm sure there's something we can do to get them out of the way." He smiled then. A real smile. Not some 'I'm not amused' smile, or even a smirk, but a really real smile. "Deal?" Her mouth opened and closed a couple times, fishlike, before she opted for just nodding quickly. "Alright then, you go fix yourself up, I'll get everything set up downstairs." His lips softly descended upon her cheek before he hurried off to fulfill his half of the deal. Stifling a gasp, Tifa's hands flew up to cover her reddening cheeks. Pride welled up inside of her. He kissed her! Nothing more than a chaste peck on the cheek, but still, it was a kiss nonetheless.

Rushing off to the bathroom she gawked at the woman staring back at her in the mirror. Her eyes were rimmed with bright red, her cheeks were flushed, her hair was disheveled, but oddly enough, she couldn't remember ever feeling happier. All the painstaking time she put into making herself look nice and the best feelings came when she was looking like this. Giggling at her luck she quickly ran a hand through her hair and splashed water on her face, trying to regain some semblance of beauty. Once she felt that she looked alright she ran down to help Cloud with the guests that were sure to be coming in any time now. She couldn't wait until tomorrow.

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**And more author noting time! i really dont know why i wrote this. truth is, i really hate tifa. so why i wrote a quick story sympathizing with her is completely unknown by me. i had an inspiration, and sadly, she was the only one who could actually fit. Yes yes, i know it sux major ass-mar (LOTF joke there...heh, heh...) and im sorry, i try but it really doesnt come out to much. please review, it will: a) help my self esteem, or b) help my writing which is in serious need of some aid. Thanks a bunch! See you next story! hopefully...**


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